The knock came again.
Louder this time.
"Scotland Yard!"
"Doctor Ashford, are you inside?"
Eleanor looked instinctively toward the wounded stranger.
He was already on his feet.
One hand pressed firmly against the fresh bandages beneath his shirt.
His breathing remained steady.
His face did not.
The pain was beginning to catch him.
"You need to hide," Eleanor whispered.
He slowly shook his head.
"No."
"If they find me here..."
"...you become part of this."
Another knock shook the front door.
"Doctor?"
"We know you're open."
Eleanor looked from the door...
...back to the stranger.
"They'll come in."
"I know."
"They'll arrest you."
"I know."
His answers remained calm.
Almost detached.
As though he had accepted every possible outcome long before tonight.
He quietly picked up the grey coat.
Eleanor stepped in front of him.
"You can barely walk."
"I don't need to walk far."
"You'll tear your stitches."
He looked at her.
"If I stay..."
